


The Sluttiest Place On Earth

by glutenfreeshame



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Not Serious, Snowballing, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glutenfreeshame/pseuds/glutenfreeshame
Summary: READ THE TAGS. DONT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. Its for jokes and giggles.Peter and Elias destroy a hotel room and ruin Disneyland for the rest of us. What whores. Fuckin killjoys.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	The Sluttiest Place On Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This was made for my darling friend em who also is bullying me into posting this here. I told them it was a bad idea. Blame them.

Elias slowly woke up to a sight he could barely remember the context for. He was in a hotel room marred by the scenes of last night's escapades with a sleeping peter beside him. He slowly took stock of the room. 

In the corner was their perhaps most unsanitary trial of the night. Peter had become enamored by the idea of creating something with their seemingly never ending streams of cum (since they were both far too gay to ever create a child from it), and thus the idea was born for CumMan. CumMan was a snowman made out of their combined jizz, which I’m sure I do not have to emphasize how romantic the idea of it was to the both of them. Their rituals were almost alienating in nature, and therefore the unification of their hot, sticky cum was truly a poetic gesture. Peter had drawn the outline of a snowman on the carpet and every time one of them felt as though they were about to spill, they would attempt to color in the lines. 

Looking around the room it was clear they would not be getting any form of a deposit back. Tables had been knocked over in Peter’s pursuit to make Elias’ hole deeper than the Mariana’s Trench. Judging by the way he felt this morning, he knew his hole was blown out and gaping. Greasy stains of lube covered the walls and the curtains had almost been ripped off their hinges. 

As he got up, Elias took a moment to glance at the massive bear next to him. Peter wore his nipple clamps even now and Elias swore he could see dried cum knotted in his thick chest hair. Elias tried to fart and when it made no sound, he was acutely aware of how his hole had been affected from last night's activities. A lifetime of anal poundings could barely prepare him for the sheer girth of that dick laying in bed beside him. 

——

The reason they had been in a hotel room came flooding back as Elias washed the unspecified fluids from off his body. They were in America. They were going to Disneyland. Peter had droned incessantly about the inherent loneliness of a place dubbed “the happiest place on earth”. Elias had listened with only half of his attention dedicated to the man, but he knew if it meant getting that dick inside him again he’d be willing to travel to America. 

——-

After grabbing their first meal that wasn’t the other’s cum, they proceeded to Disneyland without a word. Elias enjoyed walking alongside Peter in more ways than one. The thick vape clouds that followed Peter (a physical manifestation of the lonely) usually manifested doubts and fears in the people that surrounded him. Elias, ever the voyeur, thoroughly basked in the feelings of their fellow tourists. 

Giving particular attention to one person walking besides him, he focused the energy of the eye onto them. He saw an enthralling conversation unspooling on a phone screen between this stranger and another. The messages popped into his brain through the power of the eye and he was amazed at how this stranger’s friend had known so much about him. A possible tie to another entity? He had taken note of another entity entitled The Brain Rot, perhaps the individual with the possum icon was an avatar. Elias mentally saved the messages to his memory. They are pasted below to maintain the comprehensive nature of this narrative. 

_ glutenfreearchivist: I like how you're ignoring that I implied Elias can squirt diet Mountain Dew out of his nipples _

_ (REDACTED TO PROTECT THEM): Some things we do out of necessity for survival _

_ glutenfreearchivist: ONLY diet Mountain Dew tho. if its full calorie Mountain Dew he cant do it, he doesn't have enough sugar in that Twink body to cover it..... y'all still buying soda? I suck it out my boyfriends tits like intended _

——-

The ticket taker was a man who already looked ready to snap when Peter handed him the tickets they previously bought online. The vape clouds of the lonely overtook him and made him abandon all formality as the ticket taker slowly met their eyes.

“Have a nice experience in the manifestation of capitalism and may you recognize the inherent classism of creating a park meant to exude happiness that barely pays its workers any wage at all and also charges about $200 for entry.” 

Peter had that effect on people, he made them release their inhibitions (feel the rain on your skiiiiin) and say what was really on their mind.

The park buzzed with the energy of middle class parents desperate for a way to assuage their guilt of horrible parenting by offering their children to Mickey Mouse. 

Peter frantically grabbed Elias’ arm when they saw Peter Pan walking around the park. He wanted his picture taken with him and was willing to cast a few children into the lonely to get it, give or take. 

When they approached Peter Pan, his eyes met Elias’ and recognition fell into place. An important thing to note is when you’ve been alive and been a fervent whore the whole time, you’ve certainly come into contact with a myriad of lovers. Many of whom do not remember you fondly. 

“You fucking slut. You fucking whore.” 

Peter Pan broke into a run towards Elias as he frantically tried to remember how he had incurred the wrath of a children’s character cosplayer. 

——-

After Peter begrudgingly sent Peter Pan into the lonely he confronted Elias over this development while they hid from security in the stall of the bathroom.

“You fucked his dad. And when he walked in on you two.... you spit his dads cum at him and ran..” Peter slowly repeated. 

It was more statement than question. A simple rehashing of facts. 

Elias rolled his eyes, “Yes Peter, the little brat walked in and left me without an exit and a mouth full of cum. What was I supposed to do?”

Peter’s eyes frantically widened, “How about SWALLOWING and THEN running?”

Elias stopped to consider how that chain of events would have gone down. Huh. Yeah maybe that would’ve worked. However, hunched into a small bathroom stall that smelled of something one of the Fears would inflict, he had little time to contemplate the apparent mistakes of the past. A little cum spat in the direction of a confused teenager is hardly remarkable in his centuries of life.

They would need a quick way to get out of this situation without dealing with the wrath of a traumatized Peter Pan cosplayer. 

———

After about 15 minutes of silent contemplation, Elias’ eyes lit up with the familiar gaze of enlightenment. He had an idea.

“Peter, the last time I dealt with this kid, how did I get out of it?” He frantically asked the man hunched in the stall with him. 

“What? Y-You spit his fathers’ cum at him. How is this relevant to th-” Peter was interrupted by Elias’ fervent stare. 

“Exactly. Give me your cum and I’ll spit it at him. Do you have your toys?”

Peter was a fan of a more novel sort. He enjoyed antique sex toys, which he believed made him cultured, not old fashioned. One of his favorite toys was a buttplug in the shape of a foghorn on a vessel; riding it made him feel like a whore of the sea once more. He had tried to impale himself on the top of an anchor once, but no amount of lube could slide the wretched handle into his anal cavity. Unlike Elias, he wasn’t blown open due to the efforts of centuries worth of horny men. He had never had the time to be ashamed of his somewhat niche interests. What’s a little boat kink when your boyfriend is 200 years old and spat cum at a teenager after sucking off his dad?

Peter began to protest when Elias pulled out the new anchor sex toy they commissioned some poor tumblr blog to hand craft for them. Usually Elias was the one bent over and begging for forgiveness to some god he’d forgotten the name of, so Peter indulged in this special treat. 

Much to Elias’ amusement, Peter was already hard when he snaked his hand in the front of his pants. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Some random kid dressed as my favorite character calling my boyfriend a whore might’ve been a specific repressed kink I never realized I had.” Peter attempted to explain. 

After a few minutes of desperate begging on Peter’s part, the anchor top had been inserted into his ass with the help of the lube he always carried around. When you’re dating an illustrious whore, you need to be prepared at all times. A lesson well noted, Peter. 

“E-Elias I’m not gonna last long,” He mumbled out. 

Thirty seconds and a mouth full of cum later, they ready to make their escape. Elias motioned for Peter to leave the bathroom first with the instruction to signal him when the Subject was in view. It should be noted that the names they cycled through for the poor boy spiraled from Cum Boy, Sinister Spunk, and General Jizz, however, they decided simply on “subject” much to your author’s chagrin. 

Peter slid out the door and entered the park once more, Elias following closely in tow. The scene in front of them was oddly calm, and lacked a certain Sperm Sommelier that they admittedly were waiting for. 

It came all at once, just as Peter had only minutes ago. A flash of green entered the side of their eye, and Elias knew it was time to spit. Usually his motto was “spitters are quitters”, but my dear reader, these are demanding times. He waited until the boy entered his personal space and he spit with all the power he could muster. White splashed across the face of the Peter Pan in front of him as the man fell and screamed, much as one would do from a mortal hit on the battlefield. 

With a mighty push, Elias and Peter ran as fast as they could. They exited the park and ran back to their decimated hotel room with an energy truly unheard of for men their age. It was a miracle neither of them needed Viagra, but that was a story for another time. 

As they approached their room it was clear that the atmosphere had shifted. The housekeeping cart was in the room next to theirs, and a heavy weight came to weigh on both of their hearts. They had left CumMan alone in the room without a “Do Not Disturb” sign to protect him. 

They couldn't enter their key fast enough, and when the door finally gave way, they were blanketed by sorrow not inflicted by the Lonely’s vape clouds. 

CumMan was gone. He had been steamed and deep cleaned by the heartless cleaning staff. Grief came to weigh on their hearts as they embraced. Tears fell down their cheeks. It is a potent thing, to lose a child. Even more so when that child was a snowman made out of their own sperm smoothie. 

Loss remained oppressive in their hotel room that night, and not the love they had for each other nor the truly immaculate girth of Peter’s sex toys could bring him back. 

The end. RIP CumMan. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> All emotional damage complaints can be forwarded to @eliasbouchardslut on Tumblr, I am also accepting love confessions but thats neither here nor there


End file.
